


Love’s a State of Mind

by DRHPaints



Series: Clark and Rhiannon [3]
Category: Bill Hader - Fandom, Clark Honus - Fandom, Doc Now - Fandom, Documentary Now - Fandom, Documentary Now! (TV 2015)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26800801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRHPaints/pseuds/DRHPaints
Summary: When Rhiannon accompanies Clark to a business dinner and gets insulted by one of the executives, she runs out tearfully and, after throwing a punch, Clark takes her home. While icing his hand, Clark accidentally confesses the depth of his feelings for Rhiannon.
Relationships: Clark Honus/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Clark and Rhiannon [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954567
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	Love’s a State of Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Unlikelybeardsublime1212](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unlikelybeardsublime1212/gifts).



> I decided to make this a series since there have been three requests for this for the sake of ease. I recommend reading the other two installments first.
> 
> Also, if you’re curious, the title of course comes from a lyric in the song ‘Rhiannon’ by Fleetwood Mac.

Digging a fork into her rice pilaf, Rhiannon didn’t contribute to the conversation much as the meal progressed. If she was honest, Rhiannon despised these dinners. Though Clark sat next to her looking exceptionally handsome in his favorite worn leather jacket over a burgundy button up, gathering around a table with a bunch of no-nonsense executives and their partners quickly grew tedious. 

It didn’t help that it seemed whenever Rhiannon did manage to strike up a friendship with one of the wives or girlfriends, these boorish men would trade her in for a younger model and she found herself starting all over again with someone new.

So Rhiannon tried to focus on the food, biding her time until the night was over while Clark discussed business. “So…” Wrapping his wide mouth around a bite of steak, Clark gestured across the table with his fork as he chewed. “About the Catalina Coolers in your stores.”

“What about them?” Logan McAllister, a dead-eyed couch of a man stared back at Clark, face flat and jowls jiggling as he munched on a fingerling potato. Beside him was his newest bride, Traci. Rhiannon didn’t like to make assumptions about the nature of other’s relationships, particularly because people did so often in regards to her and Clark, but as she glanced between Logan’s horrorshow appearance and the heavy diamonds draped around practically every visible surface of Traci, it was hard not to at least wonder.

“I got the paperwork yesterday.” Keeping his tone amiable, Clark cut a fresh bite of meat. “Said nine percent.”

Heavy jaw rolling, when Logan responded it was apparent he didn’t care about speaking with his mouth full. “And?”

“We agreed on ten.” Clark stated simply.

Lifting a round shoulder, Logan speared another potato. “It’s only one percent.”

“If it’s only one percent.” Tilting his head, Clark smirked. “Then why not give it to me?”

As abhorrent as Rhiannon found the gatherings, seeing Clark at work was exhilarating. Never a man to back down, Rhiannon was present on occasions when he would become almost bestial in his dealings, nose flaring, speaking through gritted teeth, muscles in his jaw jumping as he glowered at his opponent until he got what he wanted. Perhaps it was wrong, but witnessing that part of Clark was undeniably sexy, and Rhiannon was proud of him.

Logan waved a hand. “Let it go, Clark. We spent months hammering out this deal. You don’t want to jeopardize that.” Attention on his food, Logan didn’t notice the straightening of Clark’s spine, the expansion of his firm chest as he rolled his broad shoulders back and narrrowed his eyes.

“Yeah, we did.” Edge of steel under his voice, Clark didn’t blink. “But I want what we agreed on. Ten percent. Any place has my coolers, I always get ten percent. That’s that.”

Maybe it seemed like Clark was being silly, but though Rhiannon didn’t know the exact details, she was certain the contract discussed was one for millions, maybe tens of millions of dollars, making a measly one percent no small chunk.

Logan took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “You know Clark…” For the first time Rhiannon saw something approaching emotion in the man’s face, and it wasn’t pleasant. “Your type is the worst of all.”

Tilting his head, Clark furrowed his brow and Rhiannon noticed his jawline flicker. “My type?”

“Yes.” Logan nodded, looking around the table. “You’re not one of us. You come in here with your music industry money, dressing fancy and high on people kissing your ass for decades, and think the world owes you something. It doesn’t. And neither do I.”

“You…” Leaning forward, Clark folded his big hands on the table, voice deep and dangerous. “Owe me one percent. I won’t be cheated by some goblin trying to pull a fast one.”

Rising to his feet, Logan’s eyes widened and splotches of red crept up his liver-spotted face. “And I won’t be pushed around by some castrato that believes he reached the top just because he waltz in with a sports car and some leech-ridden skank!”

Gray eyes turning on Rhiannon, Logan’s lip curled in disgust. Mouth falling open in shock, Rhiannon looked back at the hateful man, and at the assembled faces staring, and the sting of tears threatened her eyes. Pushing away from the table, Rhiannon rushed outside, hand over her mouth and slamming the door behind her.

As she took stuttered breaths in the crisp night air, Rhiannon cursed herself once again for being the kind of person who cries when angered. If there was one aspect of Clark’s personality she desired to glean, it was the manifestation of his rage. Though not directed at her, when Clark truly blew up, there were never tears. Dry-eyed and shouting, unlike Rhiannon, Clark didn’t become flustered, or trip over his words. Instead wrath seemed to hone Clark into a piercing dagger, merciless and effective in his every attack.

Startled by the front door opening behind her, Rhiannon saw the outline of Clark’s tall form, rubbing his knuckles before yanking the door shut with such force Rhiannon heard it splinter.

“Come on.” Touching his fingers to the small of Rhiannon’s back, she could tell he was trying to make his voice soft, but was failing as the fury continued to surge through his veins. “Let’s go.”

Always just this side of reckless behind the wheel, Clark pulverized the speed limit on the way home, Rhiannon noticing how the fingers of his right hand failed to mold around the steering wheel. 

Forced to come to a stop at a light, Clark took a deep, wavering breath. “You know that’s not true, right, Rhi?” Glancing over at her, Clark swallowed. “What that asshole said. None of it.”

Nodding, Rhiannon saw the fire behind Clark’s cobalt eyes was fading to embers. “Yeah. I know. Thank you.”

“Good.” Clark peeled away and soon they were back at the monumental estate, Rhiannon touching her hand to Clark’s vast shoulder once they got inside. 

“Sit down. I’ll get some ice for your hand.” 

Clark nodded, toeing off his shoes and flopping down on the beige leather couch. Rhiannon went to the kitchen and returned with a dish towel full of ice cubes, sitting beside him and resting it over Clark’s knuckles, a couple of which were already swollen.

“I’m sorry, Rhi…” Clark shook his head after a moment of silence. “I know I shouldn’t‘ve...I know hitting him was fuckin’ stupid.” Rolling his eyes, Clark gave a half smile. “It’s just…” Looking off, Clark raised his other hand. “I saw red, you know? Someone insults the woman I love and I just can’t stand for that.”

Raising the ice to examine his damaged fingers, it was a minute before Clark registered the significance of his words, during which he didn't notice Rhiannon sitting agog beside him. Flexing and unflexing his hand, suddenly Clark froze, digits struck out at an odd angle as he slowly swiveled his head to Rhiannon, sapphire eyes wide.

“Did you say…” Swallowing, Rhiannon blinked. “Love?”

Looking back at her, Clark considered for a moment and cleared his throat. “Yup.” Unable to read Rhiannon’s expression, other than shock, as with many things in his life, Clark came to a solid decision rapidly, instinctively, and he went all in. “I’m in love with you, Rhiannon.”

Rhiannon tried to process, but her brain kept sending up error messages. Finally, gazing back into Clark’s eyes, pools of dark blue expectancy, Rhiannon reached for his undamaged hand. “I love you, too, Clark.”

“You do?” Mouth spreading into the crooked, goofy grin Rhiannon adored, Clark tilted his head.

Smiling, Rhiannon nodded, placing the cloth full of ice on the glass coffee table. “Yeah. I do.”

Laughing in relief, delight, joy, or perhaps all of the above, Clark and Rhiannon grasped one another, mouths attempting to kiss and finding the task difficult as their smiles intruded. 

Clark parted from her for a moment before cupping Rhiannon’s face in both hands and grinning, eyes glassy. Never once in their time together did Rhiannon see Clark come even close to crying, and her heart swelled as he scooped her into his arms, face buried in her neck and squeezing tight. 

“I love you, Rhi.” Mumbling into her skin, Clark’s lip were ticklish and she smiled, stroking her fingers through his salt and pepper hair.

“I love you, Clark.”

Linking their lips together, Clark’s mouth parted hers as he gathered Rhiannon near, pulling her into his lap until she straddled him. Sizable hands kneading her ass, Rhiannon peeled her shirt overhead and cast it to the floor before her fingers wound into his silver-touched hair.

In the back of Rhiannon’s cleaning mind she cringed at the idea of having sex on any of Clark’s expensive, light colored furniture, even though she was no longer the one doing the housekeeping. Once Martin took over her duties, Rhiannon found a job tidying up for a family in Beverly Hills, despite Clark trying to persuade her that she needn’t work anymore. The idea of being a kept woman made Rhiannon uncomfortable and she wanted to maintain some semblance of independence. Still, Clark heavily insisted on paying for all their outings and everything around the house, and Rhiannon was secretly grateful that the reduced hours she was able to do allowed her more time to write.

She did find one small way to reimburse Clark, though. Baking. By this point Clark’s sweet tooth was blatantly evident, and so whenever Rhiannon found the house to herself, Clark would return to enticing aromas and a plethora of cookies, bars, or cakes, wide mouth consuming greedily and humming in appreciation. Pinching at the bit of pudge around his middle afterward, Clark would frown and shake his head. “You keep it up, I’m never gonna get rid of this.” But Rhiannon would just smile, internally planning her next delicacy.

Clark bunched Rhiannon’s skirt at her waist before laying her down on the couch, shrugging off his jacket and button up before inching Rhiannon’s panties off her hips and half-kneeling on the floor. 

Brushing his lips down her slit, Clark let out a long, low groan. “Mmm...I love eating your pussy, you know that, Rhi?” Clark parted her, tongue swirling around her clit for a moment before painting a wide swath. “I love the way you taste…”

Rhiannon cradled Clark’s head to herself, massaging his scalp as she rotated into his eager face, back arched and moaning. “ _ Yes, Clark! I love it! Don’t stop! _ ”

Inserting three of his lengthy fingers, Clark curled upward and began pulsing inside of her, but soon winced, mouth and hand stopping. “Ah shit, sorry babe.” Clark frowned down at his puffy knuckles. “I don’t think that’s gonna work. I can try the other hand.”

Rhiannon shook her head feverishly, hips seeking him in their desire for the return to friction. “Just keep using your tongue.  _ Please _ .”

Chuckling, Clark lowered his mouth. There was nothing he enjoyed more than getting Rhiannon riled up, making her squirm, hearing her scream. Devouring her, Rhiannon’s thighs glued to the sides of his head and Clark moaned into her sensitive flesh, grinding his hard cock into the couch.

“ _ Clark! Yes! Fuck! Clark! _ ” Seizing beneath him, Rhiannon’s essence smeared over his face as her heels jittered over his broad back. Typically Clark would keep going, summoning forth Rhiannon’s waves of passion again and again until she lay before him a trembling pool, but his hunger for her was overwhelming.

Standing, Clark shuffled out of his jeans, kicking them away before hoisting Rhiannon on top of him once more. Rhiannon hastily positioned herself, sinking down on Clark’s thick cock in one fluid motion before frenetically dragging her hips back and forth as the slightly less coordinated fingers of Clark’s left hand fiddled her clit.

“I love being inside you, Rhi.” Clark breathed. “I love you.”

Forehead pressed to his, Rhiannon panted into his open mouth. “I love you, too, Clark. Fuck.  _ Fuck!” _ Rhiannon’s orgasm snuck up on her, constricting violently and emitting one high shriek as her knees came together, and she folded forward, shivering.

Waiting for Rhiannon to relax, Clark began to guide her hips over him with patience, with thoughtfulness, but with no less passion as his oceanic eyes bore into her. Commanding voice of lust not quite as urgent, Rhiannon was able to clasp her arms behind Clark’s neck and study his face. 

Rhiannon discovered a serenity in Clark’s handsome features. It reminded her of a rare morning when she woke before him and managed not to disturb his extended slumbering form. Creeping downstairs, Rhiannon noticed she was in time for the sunrise. Sliding open the glass door, as the salinic ocean wind hit her face, for some reason all sounds of seagulls, and traffic, and existence in general faded. All that remained was the rising ball of fire, dappling the ocean in hues of purples, pinks, oranges and everything in between as Rhiannon stood, breathing, watching as the colors leaked onto the surface of the pool. A resounding sense of security, of calm blossomed inside of her, and when Clark’s firm arms encircled her from behind, kissing her neck with a whispered greeting, Rhiannon found herself unstartled.

Clark’s visage contained that same comfort, that same strength now as their languorous rhythm continued. They shared artful, explorative kisses; tongues moving as if passing back and forth between one another’s mouths words of adoration and encouragement. Clark’s large hands caressed, squeezed; attempting to absorb Rhiannon, to fuse her unto himself as his hips drove forward and he rested his neck against the couch, body undulating into her own.

“I love having you inside of me, Clark.” Lips almost touching, Rhiannon’s words were barely above a whisper.

Able to sense her body straining around him, Clark fought to keep his eyes open, to focus on Rhiannon as her breathing shallowed and her movements hastened. “I love fucking you.” Clark breathed. “When I’m inside you, I want to stay forever, Rhi.”

Rhiannon wanted to draw out their pace, but the combination of Clark’s cock hitting every nook inside, as was his custom, combined with his fiddling fingers and earnest, loving gaze spurred her on. “ _ Clark! Yes! I love you! Clark! _ ” Molding herself against him, Rhiannon rocked her hips forward rapidly and breathed into the skin of Clark’s neck as her body quaked and she repeated his name.

Firm arms clutching Rhiannon’s back, a high whine tore from Clark’s throat at the increased pressure and his pelvis jumped, tipping Rhiannon back and forth,filling her with cum while he helplessly whimpered, “ _ I love you! I love you! I love you!” _

A pile of quivering limbs, Rhiannon stayed atop Clark, head resting on his shoulder with his against her cheek until sleep claimed them, their arms falling limply. When Rhiannon snorted awake, what may have been twenty minutes or hours later, Clark was still inside of her, cock as soft as his features in repose as he sat below, face vulnerable in a way she never witnessed. All the wrinkles that would appear when Clark became upset evaporated, leaving the white sand beach of his surprisingly youthful skin. Light pink lips separated, rounded teeth exposed, and long eyelashes doing the slightest of flutters as he dreamed.

Rhiannon didn’t want to disturb him, but in their current position it was unavoidable. Capturing his lips, Rhiannon applied gentle pressure until she heard an audible inhalation of breath and Clark blinked himself awake, hands coming to her waist. “Oh hey, babe.” Rubbing his brow, he glanced around. “What time is it?”

Rhiannon shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I didn’t want to get up to get my phone.” Smirking, she raised an eyebrow and gave Clark an internal squeeze.

“Whoa, alright.” Clark chuckled, patting her ass. “Damn. Can’t believe I fell asleep inside you. As if I didn't feel old enough already.” Rolling his eyes, Clark made a face.

“Hey now.” Rhiannon carded her fingers through his gray-etched hair. “You’re not old. You’re a classic. And besides…” Contracting around him again, Rhiannon gave Clark a brief kiss and grinned. “You said you wanted to stay forever.”

“I did.” Clark touched Rhiannon’s cheek. “And I meant it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read! If you enjoyed this story, please leave a comment or come say hi on tumblr at fandomtransmandom. I also take requests!


End file.
